An Old Post-Of Trainwrecks and Damage Control

An Old Post-Of Trainwrecks and Damage Control

This is an old post. Been wondering if I should put this up. I figure now, why the hell not. It's not gonna make any difference anyhow. Due to recent developments, it's slighly updated now.

It's all a matter of avoidance.

I pretend nothing's going on, nothing's different, and so does he.

Except I know it's not gonna work. It's not gonna go away.

The hurt's not gonna get any less. In fact, it's probably gonna get even worse.

I know. How'd I know? 'Cos I've had a string of that.

He's afraid of making things worse than it already is. How could things get any worse, really?

Letting things go on as they are. How could things get any better? What purpose could it possibly serve?

I honestly don't see a happy ending all around anywhere along the time frame if things stay as they are. I wonder if he does. If he does, I'd really like his imagination. Because I really don't.

I don't see things getting better. Or settling itself. What I see, is more than one or two parties getting extremely hurt. I'm trying to figure out what to do about that, but I can't see a cut-and-dried solution.

What's a girl to do when sentiments and emotions get in the way of logic and detachment? When logic and detachment is precisely what I need right now.

I shouldn't have let it get this far.

I should've stopped it when I could.

'Cept there were times when I was caught by surprise. But blistering intensity is still no excuse. Shoulda-woulda-coulda. It matters not who started what. I should've stopped anyway. I know men. Men wouldn't let go unless there's something better, or they're forced to. Instance, if Ange hadn't come onto the scene, do you think Brad would've left Jen? You don't leave a good thing, unless the good thing leaves you, or you get something better. Men act that way. Boys can't be expected to do any better.

Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa. But what could regret possibly serve now? What's done is done. Regret is a waste of time.

What I want to know now is: How do I stop the train from wrecking itself now? Or at least, how do I minimise the damage that I know would occur?

I see just one way. I know he'd be hurt. Hell, I'm already hurtin'. I'm not sure he knows it. I could only guess that he is, too. But what choice do I have when it comes to damage control? I wish it needn't have come to that. But it has to.

I wouldn't force someone to do something s/he wouldn't want to do. Because the outcome would be half-arsed. But I wouldn't be forced to stay in a situation I know would cause everything to fall apart as well. Not if I can help it.

Not if I have a choice. And I do.

I can only control ME. And what I DO. And SEE. And FEEL. And TASTE. And HEAR.

Everything and everyone else matters not here. It's inconsequential.

It's cold. But it has to be done.

He says I must respect his decision. Even if it takes forever to. Very well. Then he must respect mine. Even if it takes a nanosecond to. And this wasn't made in a nanosecond. It's robbed me of my peace of mind many a night.

He can live his life any way he wants to. It's his life. Whether I like it or not. I can't do anything about it, and I won't. But this is My life, too. And it affects me. And I'll live it the way I want to. Whether he likes it or not. Too bad. I was hoping we'd come to a compromise, but I guess not.

There's always a choice. Always. Even if it's between two evils. So I'll just have to choose the lesser of two evils. Which means I've got to cut my losses. And leave.

Taken in overall context, whatever's been said, or done, was never quite right-never quite healthy. Never quite enough.

Oh, it was sweet. For awhile. It's like something that's sweet at the start, and you think it's wonderful, until it leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

Tell me: What choice do I have? How else can I stop a disaster from happening?

Hard as it may be to believe, but I do want him to be happy. I cannot make him happy. Neither of us seem to allow it. And I cannot allow myself to stay. I will not make promises I cannot keep. That's the one thing I will not do, sinful Jezebel that I am. Letting this drag on and on isn't going to change a thing. What purpose could it possibly serve anyone anyway?

I cannot stay. I no longer fit in. I never have. I doubt I ever will. All that's happened these past few years just goes to show how I know myself best after all.

And how I hate insecurity, and being put in a position I'm uncomfortable in.

But he tries so hard to fit in. To be inconspicuous. To follow the crowd, to adapt to what others see him to be. To go with the flow. To please everyone that he can. He's adorable that way. But I can't abide that. Maybe when he gets older he'd realise what I have. That the effort is futile. That ultimately, you can't please everyone. There's bound to be some who would never be happy with how much you do. Or try. Or even, who you are as a person. I've said my piece on that. I shan't say anything more.

All I know is that I'm too different. I think differently. Behave differently. Act differently. I'd please someone if it suits me to. If it's someone whose opinion I care about. And yet, my friend's right. There are times when I must put my foot down. Enough is enough.

Well, this is me. I may take things lying down for the longest time. But when I do finally decide to get up on my feet and walk away, I walk away and don't look back. It's terminal. It's over. It's enough.

And this time, it's enough. If he won't make a decision, then I will. He's taken what's important. I've given all that I can. There's nothing more left to give. Nothing I can afford to give.

He can't ask for much more. That'd be a subtle cruelty. The person I've come to know and care for wouldn't do that. He couldn't. At least, that's what I want to believe.